


Not There Anymore

by naturallesbain



Series: Surviving yet Falling (The War Series) [2]
Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: -0-, 0-0, Ahh Dallas comes back from war, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, this is a request from tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26905552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturallesbain/pseuds/naturallesbain
Summary: "I think a fic dedicated to Dallyl getting drafted would be awesome! Could you maybe write it with him having major PTSD when he gets back? Thanks if you write this!"-AnonThis fic will contain PTSD and not super graphic depictions of violence, it's more mentioning what happened rather than going into detail.
Series: Surviving yet Falling (The War Series) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964266
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Not There Anymore

When Dallas came home, he was greeted with hugs and tears, the salty liquid flowing freely down his face. He spent a substantial amount of time with his friends he made before the war, despite a few of his buddies from the war living a few states away.

If Dallas was being serious, he did not know what to do with his life. His PTSD from the war bad enough to make him unable to work, any loud noise triggering his PTSD.

Dallas breathed out a sigh at the sweet inhale of nicotine in his lungs, his habit to pick up more now that he was not able to work and he was left to deal with the nightmares that came to every night full force.

He snuffed out his cigarette, moving to go back inside the Curtis house and try to get some sleep. However, he could not help the fear that took over him as he sat down on the couch, his stomach doing small swoops with the thought of having to relive what he went through in Vietnam.

That night, Dallas seemed to dream up every instance of trauma that he went through in Vietnam. He dreamt of the bombs that took out his buddies (or what remained of them at the end of his service), the bullets flying through the air, and the tumbling jeep that took his legs and nearly took his arm.

He let out a brutal gasp as he sat upright on the couch, his hand clutching his dog tags that lay on his chest and the other hand clutching the couch to try and ground himself. He felt like he was in another universe, he could feel the hot Tulsa air, but his mind brought him back to the always damp air of Vietnam. 

He could hear someone calling his name as he ran out of the house, but he assumed it was his buddies telling him not to go. He ran, feeling the sweat run down his face, his body overworking itself, his leg slowing him down, but not stopping him. 

He could feel the brush of Vietnam as he was tackled to the ground, flailing around for the knife hidden in his boots, which he still wore from Vietnam; he didn't have the money to get new shoes. 

He waved his knife blindly, his attacker dodging the attacks before finally getting ahold of his wrist and pinning it to the ground. 

He grounded and squirmed on the ground, slowly seeing the world around him. He let out deep shuddering breaths, feeling like he was suffocating. 

"Dal, you with us?" A voice none other than Darrel Curtis said.

Dallas took a moment before responding, trying to calm his shaking voice and ragged breaths. 

"Yeah, I'm here," Dal said through gasping breaths. He could distantly feel his own sweat -or was it tears?- dripping down his face. He could feel the things around him, the grass in which he was laying on, the person on top of him -which was no doubt Darrel-, and most importantly the now cool breeze that washed over him. 

He couldn't yet see, his senses still haywire over the experience, but at least he could feel.

"What happened back there, Dal?" Soda said from somewhere off to his left. 

"I was back in 'Nam. I-" Dallas had to pause for a moment before continuing, "I saw the explosions, the car, the bullets, everything. It was too hot, too." 

There was silence for a few minutes as they let the information sink in. Dallas had never told them about what had happened in Vietnam, and they never wanted to push him to talk, they knew what that place did to young guys.

Dal felt Darrel finally get off him. 

"Did I wake y'all up?" Dallas asked the group of six in front of him while sitting up. 

"Yeah, heard ya murmuring in ya sleep, and then ya screamed mighty loud. Pretty sure Two shit himself," Steve said, which earned a few chuckles from the gang and a slap from Two-Bit.

"What can we do to help?" Johnny said from his right. Dallas could see now, he could see where he went. They were all in the lot, behind the couch, and near the wooded area.

"Dunno," Dallas said truthfully, "they gave me counseling while I was still in PT but after they discharged me they stopped the program." 

"We should get ya away from the city, take ya out more towards the lake dad used to take us to fish," Darrel said, which earned a few head nods from the gang.

"I heard it was a good idea to connect with other vets. You said you had a few buddies a few states away, right?" Ponyboy spoke up. 

"I don't even know if they wanna reconnect, man. We all just wanna forget what happened and move on. 'Sides, the only buddies who really wanna see me are the ones hanging around my neck," Dallas said while grabbing his dog chains and pointing out the multitude of names around his chain.

"We'll find a way, Dal. Just like we always have," Johnny said with a smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> PT stands for Physical Therapy btw


End file.
